


Wrong crime, wrong time

by Mintycandlelight



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But neither of them realise until too late, Canon-Typical Violence, During Nobody Escapes Cidhna Mine quest, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Imprisonment, Love Confessions, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Skyrim Civil War, Post-Skyrim Main Quest, Post-Thieves Guild Questline (Elder Scrolls), Requited Love, Slight Canon Divergence, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:27:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintycandlelight/pseuds/Mintycandlelight
Summary: Under the new leadership of the Dragonborn, the Thieves Guild's luck is better than it ever had been.Then Brynjolf finds her daughter, who had only one question. Why hadn't her mama come home?
Relationships: Brynjolf/Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Brynjolf/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Honeyside apple

**Author's Note:**

> I've been playing a lot of Skyrim recently, I managed to buy it on my Switch a few weeks back and I've not played it in a few years so I've been having a lot of fun with it. I inevitably join the Thieves Guild no matter how much I try to keep away from it! ~~And I always sulk that you can't marry Brynjolf.~~

Now that the Thieves Guild was back on its feet, Brynjolf felt much more relaxed as he strolled the streets of Riften. He had been much more successful in his thievery ever since the new guild master, a lovely Breton lass known simply as Ciesa, had returned the Skeleton Key to the Twilight Sepulcher following its removal by her predecessor. She had stolen his gaze ever since the first time she set foot in Riften, and her icy-white eyes locked with his when he she approached the marketplace seeking information about someone hidden in the Ratways. Had he not plucked up the confidence to remark about not a single septim of hers being earned honestly, and brought her into the fold, then it could very well be likely that the guild would have fallen apart by now.

He had developed a bit of a routine as he went about his business, but not enough of one that people could pick up on it and pin him to the crimes he committed.

A small gem from Madesi, usually a garnet or amethyst as they were in surplus, would be lifted from his stall. Grelka also wouldn’t miss the occasional bracer going missing either, it would just result in the other being taken out of her stock and being prime for the taking. A few septims from other traders too.

He would also go near to the Black-Briar Meadery, but if there was anywhere he wouldn’t hit, it was there – being on Maven's bad side (whilst she was Jarl, thanks to the guild’s new leader, no less) would _not_ be good for him. No, there had recently been a farmer who visited Riften to sell some of her excess produce near to the Meadery, in spite of other produce traders (namely Marise) set up nearby. She always sold a plethora of fruits and vegetables. He would always steal an apple when her attention was elsewhere (she was very easily distracted), though he actually had good reason for that theft.

“Hello there, little lass. How're things going today?”

As he approached Honeyside, apple in his hand, he spoke out when he saw the one he had been searching for. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the apple over to the girl, who gasped as she reached up to grab it.

“Mister Brynjolf! Thank you!” The girl, Lucia he believed her name was, took a bite from the apple as she sat on a barrel beside the door, her pet rabbit on the ground near her feet. He looked at her as he raised an eyebrow and leaned against a railing, noticing that she seemed to be thinking about something.

“What’s the matter, little lass?”

“Oh, um...” she placed the apple down onto her dress, and bit her lip. “Mama didn’t come home last night...”

Brynjolf's face creased into a frown. “She didn’t? Well, she is very busy with her job as Dragonborn, maybe something happened which held her up. Maybe she’s busy fighting a dragon as we speak.”

He wasn’t just trying to justify Ciesa's absence to Lucia whilst omitting the major detail about her being the leader of the Thieves Guild, he was trying to reassure himself too. She was a fighter, and apparently always had been. However, she was precious and valuable to himself and his guildmates, like... a flawless diamond. Her absence would very quickly be noted.

“You think so? Okay... I just hope that she does come back, I've been orphaned once before and don’t want to be-"

_And that was enough of that._

He cut the girl off by ruffling her hair. “Don’t you go worrying yourself. She'll be fine, your mother's a tough nut to crack.” With a frown, he watched as Lucia jumped down and picked up her rabbit. “I tell you what... If she isn’t back by sunset tonight, I'll look for her myself. For now though, how about I keep you company? I would just have to disappear for a few minutes so that I can tell the others that we work with that I...” He trailed off when he saw the face which Lucia was giving him. It was one he often saw in Ciesa's face – fiery determination. “Now, little lass, don’t give me that look. I can’t take you with me to where me and your mother work...” Even being her adopted child, they were awfully alike. He sighed. “Fine, you can come with... But tell nobody about this place, okay?”

“Yay! Thanks, Mister Brynjolf!”

Oh, Ciesa was going to _kill_ him. So were the others in the guild... What was he even doing?! Taking a child – their leader’s child, of any – down to the Ragged Flagon, _a tavern_ , all because he couldn’t say no to her!

Before he even had the chance to change his mind, Lucia had taken hold of his hand.

Taking a child to a graveyard would have been seen as horribly suspicious – something not even the guards (who had been ordered to ignore the Thieves Guild by Maven) could ignore. So... He was going to have to take her through the Ratways. Also not the best place to take a child, but he knew that people kept away from it, and he had been through them that morning and knew that nobody was residing in there for now except maybe the occasional critter.

Lucia recognised the place, and tugged at his hand. “Mama says that the Ratways can be dangerous... But if you’re brave you can find friends inside... Is she talking about you, Mister Brynjolf?”

He felt a slight warmth as he heard her words, surprised that Ciesa had told her daughter something so… kind about the guild, in spite of their main purpose as thieves. “Perhaps, little lass. Perhaps,” he stated, pushing open the door to the Ratways, ushering the girl in, and closing the gate and door behind them. “Now... This place should be empty until we get to where your mother and I work. Just keep hold of my hand, and if anything dangerous appears, I'll keep you safe.”

What surprised him was that the girl had an awfully brave face on. Then again, he heard from her himself mere minutes earlier that she used to be an orphan. Ciesa had also told him in the past that she had adopted her from the streets of Whiterun because she was having to beg to survive. The little lass had already been through adversity, so perhaps she was used to danger.

As a precaution (and for his own peace of mind whilst accompanying a child, though he wouldn’t admit it openly) he picked up a torch and lit it. Lucia's grasp of his hand loosened as she relaxed too, so he knew it was the right call.

Weirdly enough, whilst she was calming down the closer to the Flagon that they got, he was growing anxious. Dirge would likely be the first to see that he’s brought the guild master’s child down, and would have something to say. If not him, then Delvin certainly would...

Finally, they approached the door leading to the Ragged Flagon. It was quite a relief that the bridge had been down in the Ratways, or else there was the highly likely chance that there would have been a few fights with Skeevers. Thank the divines that they didn’t have to...

“Okay, we've arrived, little lass. Everyone here works with your mother and are friends with her, so you can trust them. You might even recognise a few of them from around Riften.”

Almost as expected, once he walked around the outskirts, all eyes fell upon him and Lucia once they went up the stairs.

Vex had an eyebrow raised, whilst Delvin was chuckling as he drank from his tankard. Tonilia and even the face sculptor were looking on in confusion.

“Vekel, think you can fetch the little lass here a drink and a snack?”

From where he was sweeping the floor, Vekel glanced towards him and frowned. “ _Brynjolf_...”

“I'll explain later, just make the little lass comfortable, okay?” He watched as Vekel sighed and gestured for Lucia to follow him towards the bar. Once he gave the girl a glass of water, Brynjolf turned towards the others in the room. “Delvin, Vex, Tonilia, I need to talk with all of you.”

Settling down at a table with the three that he asked for, Brynjolf let out a deep breath. “Before you ask any questions, I know, bringing the leader's kid down here was a bad idea, but just like Ciesa herself, it’s hard to say no to her. And there is a valid reason... The lass has disappeared.”

Vex leaned on her hands as she listened to what he had to say. “She said that she would be back last night though.”

“I know. I found out because I went to say hello to the little lass like usual, but she was sat alone outside their home saying that she didn’t come back. It’s not like the lass at all to fail to stick to her word, so I think we need to reach out across all our networks to see if she has been seen or apprehended in any of the holds over the past few days.”

Once he had finished discussing what each of them would do regarding locating their leader, Brynjolf cast a worried look towards Lucia. He was going to be heading out on the road to follow the planned route back which Ciesa was supposed to have taken, and was trusting Delvin (of anyone, _Delvin!_ ) and Vekel to keep an eye on her, and to look after her if things were to take any longer than the rest of that day.

Before he set off though, he sat down at one of the tables in the flagon and looked over the map showing the planned route of travel which Ciesa was going to follow for her current job. She had meant to be carrying out a job in Markarth, which meant that she would travel through The Rift, Falkreath (with perhaps a pit-stop in Riverwood, as apparently a close contact of hers lived there, Hadvar or something along those lines), and The Reach. That meant that he too would be following those routes. He was hoping that he would encounter her before he reached Ivarstead though, if not for his own sake… for her daughter’s.

Little did he know that things would be _far_ from easy.

* * *

_Rags. Ciesa absolutely hated wearing rags._

It had been what she had been forced to wear when first arrived in Skyrim, and now it seemed to be what she would wear as she died in Skyrim. As the guards and mine overseers had _repeatedly_ told her during her previous two, three, possibly even four attempts at breaking free from her imprisonment… “ _Nobody escapes Cidhna Mine.”_

Her journey to Markarth had originally been a simple one – one of Delvin’s bedlam jobs had cropped up, and she was the only one available to take it on. So, she accepted. She had been wanting to take a break from being stuck behind her desk in the Ragged Flagon Cistern, keeping track of the guild’s successes and (currently very few) failures.

Somehow, during this job, she had managed to find herself completely entangled in an attempted murder just as she had arrived. Then some strange man called Eltrys dragged her further and further into the odd goings-on in Markarth when she was _just trying to do her damn job_. It culminated in his death, his murder being pinned on _her_ by the guards, her job falling apart as the guards eventually caught her during her escape attempt near the stables because they confiscated the goods that she stole… And now she was sentenced to life imprisonment in this horrible mine.

What made things worse was that during her attempts to escape the mine by using a pair of shivs as a lockpick, one of the guards’ blades had clipped at her right where that bastard Mercer Fray had stabbed her in his attempt to remove her from the picture a few months prior. That had been causing her some pain ever since, and she was barely being allowed the opportunity to cast any magic to heal it as she was shouted at to keep mining every time that she tried.

She should have been home by now. Back in Riften, reporting to the guild of yet another success, before returning to Honeyside to share a home-cooked meal with Lucia, telling her the stories of her encounters with wolves, bandits, and dragons on the roads of Skyrim.

All that she could hope was that her absence had been noticed by this point… That someone from the guild may be able to break in, rather than her breaking out.


	2. Drink at the bar

Going into a town such as Riverwood wearing his guild attire would likely not go down too well, were Brynjolf’s first thoughts when the gates to the town first came into his line of sight. _Especially_ if his main aim in the town was to find and talk to an Imperial soldier about the dragonborn… Despite her being the leader of the Thieves Guild, those that she fought alongside in the civil war did not know that, and it would no doubt make a bad impression on her in the future.

As such, he found himself wearing the very outfit he had on when he asked her to carry out that first task which had gone down well… aside from the actual pickpocketing part. He put that down to the horrible luck which Nocturnal had cast down on the guild ever since Karliah had inducted the two of them as Nightingales.

When walking into the town, things seemed very… plain. Boring, almost. Not too rich, but not too poor either. There was a blacksmith though, and an inn, which he supposed was something.

Now he just needed to find this Hadvar person.

“It’s not often people come to Riverwood through those gates, not since the dragon attacked Helgen.” Brynjolf was almost caught by surprise when he found himself being spoken to by the man maintaining the anvil when he reached the building. “Are you visiting, or just passing through?”

“Aye, I’m visiting. Trying to find a friend of mine, and I believe that somebody who lives here may have seen her recently. Goes by the name of Hadvar.”

The smith stopped what he was doing, and walked over to the steps leading away from the forge. “Hadvar is my nephew. He should be in the Sleeping Giant Inn at the moment, just look for the Imperial armour and you will see him.”

Giving the smith his thanks, Brynjolf made his way over to the inn, narrowly avoiding a girl and a boy who were running around after a dog in the process. He chuckled, the sight of it reminding him of seeing Lucia running around the Flagon after her rabbit (who almost jumped into the water!) just before he left on this journey.

As he stepped into the inn, it was about as unremarkable as the town it was in. All the usual features, such as a bard who would give anyone sober a headache, and a mediocre selection of food and drinks. He did find it somewhat unusual to see an alchemy table in there too, but he knew that it was something he could take advantage of before he left the town.

Then, he finally saw the one he was looking for. Sat at the bar was a man in the usual Imperial getup, though without the usual weapons or a helmet. Putting on a straight face as he pulled out some of the gold he had brought with him, he walked over to the bar and looked at the innkeeper as he ordered some mead (Black-Briar, obviously) and sat down beside the man.

Once the mead was in front of him, Brynjolf took a sip before turning to face the soldier. “Excuse me lad, but you don’t happen to be Hadvar, do you?”

A suspicious eye was cast in his direction before he received a cautious nod. “Yes, I am Hadvar. Who is asking, exactly?”

With a smile, and after some more mead, the thief answered his question. “The name’s Brynjolf. I’m looking for a mutual friend of ours, and I believe she may have been in Riverwood recently.”

“Mutual friend?”

“The dragonborn. Ciesa.” After saying that, the atmosphere seemed to lighten. Brynjolf felt bad that what he was going to say next would ruin that almost instantly. “She’s disappeared. She was meant to return to her daughter in Riften a few nights ago, and there’s been no word from her at all. Our colleagues are having to look after the little lass whilst I’m tracing her steps to find her.”

Hadvar frowned. “She is missing? That is… concerning. She was here no more than one week ago. It was just so that she could replenish supplies for her journey and to rest for a night before she continued on,” he explained, his fingers tapping against the wood of the bar. “I recall her mentioning going to Markarth afterwards, but nothing more. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be of more help, Brynjolf.”

Already, the bottle of mead was empty. Another one was ordered just as Brynjolf found himself being asked a question. “How did you meet her?”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t whilst lining the lass up for execution,” he retorted, watching as all colour drained from Hadvar’s face. “We met in Riften a few months before she defeated Alduin. Ciesa helped me out with a job that I had, and she eventually joined my organisation.”

Silence lingered between the two men after that, only the noise of their drinks being moved from the bar as they drank being made.

As the music which being played began to fade, before moving on to a new song. Brynjolf scoffed to himself when he began to hear the words of ‘The Dragonborn Comes’, knowing that she probably _wasn’t_ coming, and was most likely stuck in either one of Falkreath or Markarth. A slightly more risqué thought came to his mind too when he heard the lyrics, but he pushed that away, putting it down to the mead he was drinking.

“I must be leaving now, I have to journey to Solitude to prepare for,” Hadvar stated as he stood up from his seat, before looking at Brynjolf. “When you find Ciesa, tell her to write to me there. I’ll be worrying until I hear from her, she has a knack for finding herself in the centre of trouble.”

A small chuckle escaped the thief. “Aye, the lass sure does.”

_If by trouble… It meant getting involved in the troubles of the guild from over twenty-five years earlier, almost being murdered by the leader as a consequence, and making a deal with a Daedric Prince to right the wrongs of the past… Then yes, trouble._

Brynjolf needed some more mead.

* * *

“Delvin, Vex, come here!”

“I take it you’ve heard back from our fences, Tonilia?”

“Just get your ass here, Delvin…”

On one of the tables by the waterside in the Ragged Flagon, Tonilia was sat with an array of letters scattered across the wooden surface. She had been the one who had reached out to the fences across Skyrim to enquire whether the guild leader had been in contact with them recently via courier, and had finally received responses from each of them.

As Delvin and Vex reached the table, she turned one piece of paper around and pointed at it. “Nobody has seen her. Nobody but Endon, in Markarth. You aren’t going to like it though.”

Before Delvin could reach out for the letter, Vex snatched it up from the table and began reading it out loud.

“Tonilia, I wish I could get back to you with better news, but I’m afraid not. I have seen your leader over recent days, though we didn’t speak. During her time here, she has had guards attempt to intimidate her, and has even had people sent to ‘teach her a lesson for getting involved’, all because she stopped an attempted murder outside the Silver-Blood Inn…” Vex read out before her voice trailed off. “Oh crap.”

“What is it? Let me see…” Delvin took the paper from her hand as she stood with her mouth open, before reading for himself what was in the letter. “Framed for murder… Chased by guards… life imprisonment in Cidhna Mine,” he sighed as he placed the letter down. “Okay, who fucked off Nocturnal this time?”

“Forget that, we need to tell Brynjolf that she’s locked up in Markarth before he gets-“ Tonilia shouted, before quietening down when she was glared at from a distance by Vekel, who was making very vague gestures towards Lucia, who was sat eating a sweetroll at one of the other tables. “He’s probably not reached Falkreath yet, if someone takes a carriage we should be able to intercept him just as he gets there to pass on this information.”

“Just send Vipir, he’ll run there,” Delvin chuckled, before getting hit over the back of the head by Vex. “Okay, okay, I’ll be serious. I’m sure Etienne would be willing to reach Brynjolf, especially if it will help the leader – he hasn’t shut up about the time she saved him from the Thalmor when they grabbed him from the Ratways.”

“Fingers crossed we can get her out of there… I’ve heard that apparently nobody can get out of those mines unless they’ve finished their sentence…”


	3. Falsehoods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a lot of fun writing this, and I'm churning out chapter after chapter in my spare time... I'm far from a professional writer too, but I try to do my best!

“I am completely serious – if you can help me get out of here, I have contacts across Skyrim who could help you with your-!”

The sound of a loud slap reverberated throughout the mines as Ciesa attempted to barter with the man who supposedly held control over all of the goings on in the Cidhna Mine and over the entire Forsworn movement in Skyrim. She had gone through all sorts of convoluted tactics in order to obtain some Skooma for the Orc who was guarding the way to Madanach (she was actually relieved that she had been able to pickpocket some of the items needed without being caught, she would have been stabbed with a shiv by that point if she had been), and now… Now she was being completely shot down. Not given a chance to say her piece.

“A little piece of advice, lady. Know your damn place.”

The Breton could only see red as she clenched her fists, doing everything in her power not go all ‘Ulfric’ on Madanach and killing him with her Unrelenting Force shout, as she knew that this man was her key to getting out of the mines to clear her name.

Pulling out one of her shivs she had also ‘acquired’ during her preparation to speak to him, she gritted her teeth and pointed it at him. “You are speaking to the dragonborn who saved this divines-forsaken land. You had best think about how you speak to me-“

“And I’m the High King of Skyrim!”

Anger was beginning to cloud her judgement as she then heard the man calling for Borkul to remove her from his sight. Moments later, the Orc had pulled her shiv out of her hands, tossed it aside, and took a firm grasp of her arms to pull her away.

“Once I get word to my associates, you and your Forsworn are going to suddenly find it _very_ difficult to conduct business in Skyrim… Mark my words, you will,” she hissed, following on with a quiet mutter under her breath. “Nobody makes an enemy of the dragonborn.”

_Especially when said dragonborn was the leader of the Thieves’ Guild._

Then, just to let out some of her anger, she muttered the Throw Voice shout in Madanach’s direction. She hoped that it ended up calling him a Skeever-butt, as it was one of the most offensive things she had heard when she used the shout in the past.

As she was tossed back into the main area of the mine once again, she had to sit down for a few minutes just to pull herself together and think some more about what she could do to win Madanach’s favour in order to get out of the mines. She did, however, now know something a little more than she previously had done… There was a cave which branched off from where Madanach had set up his ‘room’ in the mine. Based on the sounds of things, it led into Dwemer ruins. That meant that it _should_ link up with somewhere in Markarth!

She had a few problems for if she wanted to escape that way, however. For one, she couldn’t get past Borkul. Man seemed to barely ever sleep, which she put down to the extensive amounts of Skooma which he consumed. She had now lost her shivs, and couldn’t use them as a makeshift lockpick, and no doubt she would need multiple. Using her shouts would result in the guards entering the mine to find her… And of course, Madanach was watching that exit – it would be impossible for her to get past him, not after that unproductive conversation.

Before she could think about any further options to escape, a shout was heard from the gates leading into the mines.

“Breton woman! You’ve got something here for you!”

She had no idea why the overseers had felt it necessary to mention her race – she was the only woman currently in this section of the mine. It was obvious it was her who was being spoken to.

Muttering under her breath, she ascended the stairs leading towards the gate, and glared at the guard who was stood there, a piece of parchment in her hands. “What do you want? Are you finally releasing me from this false imprisonment? I’m no murderer…”

“No. You have received a letter.”

Her eyes widened, and she put her hands through the bars. “P-Please give it to me, it could be from my daughter-!”

“Again, no. This will be considered contraband if it goes past that gate. I will read it out to you.”

With a sigh, she pulled her arms back and pressed her head against the bars. “Okay then…”

The guard cleared his throat, and unfolded the paper.

“So… it says the following. ‘ _Ciesa, we have heard about the situation in Markarth. We want to let you know that we are holding things down in Riften in your absence, Karliah has even come back to help out. Brynjolf, out of concern, brought Lucia to you-know-where before taking off to find you. Lucia has taken quite the liking to Vekel, he’s been teaching her how to cook, though she does keep asking when you will return home. Hope to be able to hear from you soon, Leader. Regards, D, V, T and K.’”_

Ciesa laughed quietly to herself as a small tear escaped from her eyes. Delvin, Vex, Tonilia, and Karliah. She was going to have to make up for this situation when she managed to get back to Riften, maybe buy them a few rounds of drinks.

“Am I not even allowed any stationery to respond? Not even if I’m surrounded by guards as I write it?”

“Stop asking questions. The answer will remain ‘no’.”

A smirk came to her face as she wiped away her tears. “So… Can I stay in here then?” In spite of the helmet which the guard was wearing, she felt him glaring daggers at her.

“Sure, you can stay. Now, get back to mining – we want twice the amount you gave us yesterday, you’re far behind quota, prisoner.”

* * *

Brynjolf had been in a foul mood ever since he was intercepted by Etienne _just_ as he was about to leave Falkreath. Finding out that Ciesa had been falsely imprisoned in Markarth… It just didn’t sit will with him. He had heard about the foul conditions in the ‘prisons’ there, which led to him avoiding any major jobs which took place in The Reach unless _absolutely_ necessary.

He hated the thought of Ciesa being forced into rags, being given no choice but to mine until the end of her sentence… until the end of her life… It would be ideal if she managed to break herself out before he reached the city, though he doubted it would be possible.

Even as the city came into sight, and he began to see the guards scattered about, he cast each and every single one of them a glare – any one of them could have been complicit in the fabricated crimes that they claimed she had committed. She was no murderer – that was the Dark Brotherhood’s territory, and she had been clear that she would maintain the mutual relationship, but not associate with them.

Before he could reach Markarth though, he heard his name being called. He turned towards the source of the voice, and his eyes widened.

“Ri’saad? What’re you doing here?”

“We travel between Whiterun and Markarth. It is mere coincidence that we are here at the same time,” Ri’saad responded, before making a humming noise. “Your leader, has she been found yet? We heard that she has disappeared.”

Brynjolf tutted under his breath, then pointed towards Markarth. “Aye, we have found her. She’s imprisoned in Cidhna mine for a crime she didn’t commit, I’m here to try and break her free.” He then closed his eyes, brought his hand to his face, and shook his head. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but…”

“Perhaps we can be of assistance. We can remain outside Markarth and provide you with any goods to help her escape. Skooma is used as currency in prison, and we happen to have… plenty.”

“I’ll, ah… bear that in mind. I’d have to talk to the lass before I make any… purchases of the sort though. And I’d have to see the security situation in the mine too… But thanks for the offer, Ri’saad. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Once he had said his goodbyes to the Khajiit, Brynjolf began to make his way up to Riften. Yet again, he was casting glares at each of the guards for being involved in Ciesa’s arrest.

He had done as he had done when he went to speak to Hadvar in Riverwood, and was not wearing his guild outfit – though this time it was so that the guards didn’t associate him to the leader, and decide to falsely accuse him of being involved in the murders too because of it.

Brynjolf felt completely out of sorts when he entered Markarth. Riften was very open, whereas everything was so… condensed into such a small space here. The fact that the city was built into the mountains didn’t help this, though he did see one advantage of the layout.

_He could see almost everywhere in the city at once._

And to his left… The way towards the Cidhna Mines.

“Ah, a visitor. Don’t go about making any trouble, you hear? We’ve had enough difficulties with outsiders recently,” remarked a guard as the thief walked past, and all he could do was scowl. They were clearly talking about the guild master when referring to ‘outsiders’. “And no lollygagging.”

Ignoring any further comments made around him, he began to make his way over to the mine, and took a deep breath when he found himself stood at the bridge leading over to it. His hand was resting on his dagger, ready to pull it out should he end up being confronted for approaching the mine.

But then, he got another idea when he saw one of the people who looked to be hired to guard the place. He removed his hand from the weapon, walked over, and cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, but is this here Cidhna Mine?”

The person glanced at him, and grunted. “Yeah. Why are you asking?”

“Somebody important to me is imprisoned in there, and I need to speak to-“

“No can do.”

A deep frown formed on Brynjolf’s face before he let out a sigh. “Why not?”

“Only family of the prisoners are permitted to visit them.”

Brynjolf let out a loud groan, knowing that he was going to have to think quickly before he got sent away, or worse, had guards called on him for ‘trespassing’. So, he said the first thing that came to his mind. “But it’s my wife! You’re not going to turn away a man when he has travelled across Skyrim for days on end just to see his wife after finding out she’s been imprisoned for life, are you?”

His words seemed to surprise the person. “M-My apologies sir, it is just that your words at first made it seem as though you were merely looking for an acquaintance…” They then pulled out a list, and glanced at him. “What is your wife’s name?”

“Ciesa.”

“Ah… the murderer.” Brynjolf almost grabbed his dagger in retaliation for what she had been called. “Follow quickly, and please leave your weapon behind. Can’t afford the prisoners getting hold of anything unauthorised.”

He raised his eyebrow, but did as asked anyway, and placed his dagger down on a nearby table. “Right…”

* * *

Another few days had passed since Ciesa had received her letter from the guild. The only things which had kept her going over recent days, seeming as she had now managed to make an enemy of the Forsworn prisoners in the mine, was that she knew that Brynjolf was trying to get to her.

She sat against one of the wooden supports underneath the stairs as she messed with an amethyst which she had mined alongside the iron at some point and kept hidden from the guards, hoping that if she were ever to escape this place, she would take the gem to someone – most likely Madesi or Fralia Gray-Mane – to have a piece of jewellery crafted with it, to gift to Lucia to apologise for being away from home for so long and leaving her in the capable hands of the guild.

Looking in her reflection in the gemstone, she sighed. If she wasn’t careful with it… it could easily be confiscated, or stolen by one of the other inmates (not that she was incapable of stealing it back, she was a member of the Thieves Guild after all!)

Tucking the stone away into her hair (the way it was tied up allowed her to be able to hide it there, fortunately) she then stood up, and rested her hand on her pickaxe. Her arms were sore, and her legs ached, but she knew it was her only way to avoid any sort of punishment for not meeting the iron ore quota for the day.

Before she could do anything more though, a voice called out above her from the locked gates leading into the mine.

“Breton woman! Get up here now!”

She gulped as she let go of the pickaxe, and already she could see the likes of Borkul smirking at her. To say that she wasn’t scared was an understatement – such a tone was only used when you were in trouble, though she could have _sworn_ that it wasn’t even midday yet! She couldn’t have been _that_ far behind, could she?

There was a slight shake in her step as she ascended the steps, and approached the gates. The overseer was stood there, and she could just about see the silhouette of someone in the background.

“What is it…?”

“You’ve got a visitor. You have ten minutes to talk with him.”

Her eyes widened when the person in the background emerged. “B-Brynjolf-!”

“La- My dear, by the divines, I didn’t want to believe it when I heard that you had been locked up!” Before she knew it, he had approached the bars of the gate and did something which caught her by surprise. He pulled her as close to the gates as he could, and pressed his lips against hers between the bars. He spoke in a whisper during the kiss, his eyes pleading with her. “ _Play along, lass. I’ll explain later.”_


	4. Whispers

“Bryn… I’m not a murderer – I didn’t kill anyone, I swear-!”

“I know, I know. I believe you.”

Much to Ciesa’s surprise, she felt Brynjolf’s hand against her face, wiping away some of the tears which were slipping down her cheeks through the gate. “I only came here for a job, but this man- he-he kept stubbornly pushing me into investigating an attempted murder… Then… Then the guards killed him, a-and said to my face that they were going to pin it on me. I tried to get away, but they surrounded me once I left the city gates…”

Brynjolf remained silent as he listened to her side of what happened before he frowned. Once more, his voice ended up a whisper as he asked her a question. “ _Have you tried escaping yet?”_

_“Repeatedly. Makeshift lockpicks, shouting, bribery and bartering, even using the powers which Nocturnal gave me! I can’t escape without outside help.”_

_“Is this the only way in or out?”_

_“No, there’s some Dwemer ruins which connect up to a part of the mine. Near where the Orc is stood. A Forsworn leader is guarding it with his life. Called Madanach. Bastard slapped me across the face when I tried to make a deal with him.”_

It was then that Brynjolf caught sight of a fading bruise on the side of the face which he didn’t wipe tears away from, and he gritted his teeth. “I can’t promise anything, la- _dear,_ but I’m going to do what I can to prove your innocence-“

The laughter of the overseer in the background also caught the ire of both thieves when they overheard his statement, before Ciesa sighed. “I don’t know if it even will be possible to get out of here, but if I can’t… I know you don’t want such responsibility, but please take charge of the gui- _business_ in my stead. At least until a worthy replacement is found. And Lucia… I… I don’t want the truth held back from her. Let her know what has happened. Let her know who we are. Let her make a judgement on whether she wants to stay with you all, go Honorhall, or even return to Whiterun.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that. It’s not like you to give up so easily…” Brynjolf hated each and every word which left her mouth as he leaned against the gate once more. “ _I’m not leaving Markarth unless it’s with you, lass. I’m going to do everything possible to help out. Even if I have to bribe the Jarl to let you free. Even if I have to get arrested myself.”_

“Bryn…”

Ciesa’s eyes widened as she then saw the overseer walking over, a sign that their time to talk was up. She then gave Brynjolf a pleading look, which is when he took hold of her hands as tightly as he could. At first glance, it looked like an emotional gesture to calm her down. In reality, he had used it as an opportunity to give her something. A lockpick was in his hand.

“Time’s up, lovebirds. Get back to work, prisoner.”

As Brynjolf was made to leave, Ciesa kept the lockpick in her hand as well hidden as she could. Once they had left her line of sight, she took a deep breath, silently prayed to Nocturnal, and crouched down so that she could turn invisible. Using the tool, she began to try and get the gate to open.

A few moments later, she heard a sound which she hated more than anything. A snap.

It had broken.

But she was getting used to this string of bad luck. As she fell to her knees beside the gate, she rested her head against the bars. “Brynjolf… I’m sorry…”

* * *

Brynjolf had locked the door after he had hired a room to stay in at the Silver-Blood Inn. He felt uncharacteristically angry after seeing just how much being stuck in those mines had impacted on Ciesa. He hadn’t even seen her cry before that day, and it hurt being unable to do anything aside from wipe the tears away.

He wasn’t quite sure on as to how he was going to go about finding a way for her to get out though – he had checked to see just how much gold would be needed to go about securing her freedom, and he found that there had been far too many zeroes at the end of that figure. Of course, there was the Dwemer ruins which she mentioned, but the entire city was built within a Dwemer structure meaning that it would take an awful lot of hunting to find the one which linked up with the mines.

Not to mention he hadn’t been keen on anything Dwemer since the pursuit of Mercer… He had been close to asking Ri’saad if he could camp out with his caravan for the night, rather than stay in the inn.

For now though, he had found out that he would be able to visit her for ten minutes each day. That would be enough for him to ask her if she needed anything, then the next day he could provide her with anything which he could locate so long as he could sneak it into the mines with him. At least until he had a solid plan, that was. Already he had given her a lockpick, but based on the fact that it was evening, and he had heard nothing from her, she had either been unable to escape or was waiting to do so tonight.

He knew that he could try and find out about this Madanach who had hurt her, to see if it was possible to provide her with information to barter, possibly even blackmail with, though based on things he had heard it was because of her being made to ask such questions which resulted in having crimes blamed on her.

Much to his chagrin, he believed that his best bet was going to be looking for the entrance to the ruins connected to the mines.

It was also now that he was trying to plan her prison escape that Brynjolf could understand a statement he had heard many times over – nobody escapes Cidhna Mine. But he wanted to change that statement. Nobody escapes Cidhna Mine – nobody except the dragonborn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters have been a bit short up to this point, but I'm hoping to increase the length of them from here on out - there's a lot to fit in with what I have planned to happen!


	5. Discovery

So far, Brynjolf had been able to smuggle a few different things into Cidhna Mine for Ciesa. Some Skooma from Ri’saad to help her improve relations with the other prisoners. Some lockpicks to give her a few more chances to escape. What he was most pleased with himself about though, was that he had been able to get some enchanted accessories (thanks to Endon and his wife) and a dagger into the mine for her, in spite of weapons not being allowed inside.

What he could tell from this was that though the guild master was down on her luck, it was not anything to do with Nocturnal. Her bad luck would have impacted the entire guild otherwise. He would have already been locked up for smuggling items into the mine for her if this were the case.

All of this was done too, whilst he was pretending to be her husband. He found himself getting a bit too comfortable saying ‘dear’ instead of ‘lass’, and he didn’t quite know how to go about that. It perhaps also didn’t help that he would kiss her as an excuse to get close enough to whisper, or that a slight blush would cover her face when he did so…

_Was it bad that he was tempted to continue doing this once he managed to get her back to Riften, just to see how she would react?_

It was on this day, however, that Brynjolf managed to make progress with finding the ruins which linked into the mines. On the same side of the city as the mines, he had located a doorway. After using a lockpick to open it, unlike most other places in Markarth, there was no sign of the place being inhabited. That meant that it _had_ to be ruins.

He hadn’t gone much further in than the entrance after uncovering this location, but he knew that it would be the news that the guild master was waiting for. All he would have to do if this did link up to the mines was pull together some supplies, find where Ciesa’s belongings were locked away, and stash them all there in time for the escape.

“Ah, would you look at the time… It’s almost time for my daily visit to the mines…”

With a slight spring in his step as he walked through the streets of Markarth, he began to go to where the guild master was imprisoned.

Upon his arrival, he went through his usual routine. Weapons left on a table by the entrance, mine overseer (or, as he recently found out was just a mercenary hired by the Silver-Blood family, though he much preferred thinking of them as an overseer with the way that they treated those imprisoned) informed that he was the ‘husband' of one of the prisoners there to see his ‘wife', and being brought to the entrance of the section of the mine that Ciesa was locked up in.

He always felt tempted to lecture the overseer with the way in which they would address the leader of the guild, always referring to her as ‘Breton woman' or some sort of insult over the fact that she was imprisoned over charges of murder, but held back just in case it led to consequences once he left. The leader had told him how the prisoners were treated, and that already she went through more than enough as the only female and the only person not a member of the Forsworn by guards and inmates alike.

When she finally appeared at the gates that day, Brynjolf was in for the shock of his life. Bruises covered her arms and legs, and there was a patch of blood on the rags she was having to wear.

“Before you say anything, Bryn... I'm fine,” she muttered, her hand slowly coming up to cover the blood on her torso. “Well... mostly fine.”

“Mostly? You’re bleeding, dear!”

“I... I know. Some of the others attacked me earlier, because I wouldn’t reveal to them any of our secrets.” He knew from that she was talking about where the skooma which he brought in for her to win favour was from. She continued in a whisper as they both leaned their heads against the barred gate. “ _They somehow knew about where a certain predecessor of mine stabbed me and had been hurting following on from one of my initial escape attempts. So they stabbed me with a shiv in that exact spot because I didn't sell out Ri'saad being our skooma source. Didn't stab too deep though, I managed to fight them off... that explains the bruises.”_

Brynjolf glanced over her shoulder at the other inmates, who were making a variety of rude gestures in their direction. He scowled at them, before giving her a small smile. “ _Well... Think you can fight them off for the rest of the day, lass? I have some good news.”_ She looked up at him with wide eyes at his words. _“I believe I've found the ruins linking to the mine. I’ve just about got a plan too. I'm going to scout it out and clear it of any of those horrible machines and creatures if there are any and if it’s the right place. This evening, I'll retrieve your confiscated equipment and get it ready for you in the ruins, and probably also get us a disguise. Then, once everything is all quiet and dark in Markarth, I'll get into the mine, have a little word with this Madanach fellow, and get you out of there.”_

Ciesa smiled at Brynjolf, and for what was the first time, she instigated one of the ‘pretend' kisses. “ _Sounds like a plan, Bryn. But...”_ she sighed, and closed her eyes. “ _If this doesn’t work, I want you to return to Riften, understand? Forget about me. I am just one part of the guild, and what’s more, I can be replaced. The guild, however, cannot. And tell Lucia exactly as I said a few days ago.”_

_“Lass, I respectfully have to disagree. We are getting you out, even if the whole guild has to be dragged out here, or I have to get dragged in there. You are one of the family, and you’re the damn dragonborn! And if we can’t get you out, we’ll just have to find another way to secure your freedom.”_

The two could only look at each other, emotions charged and the tension in the air heavy. It ended with Ciesa giving him a tired smile, and stepping away from the gate. “ _Hopefully… I’ll see you tonight.”_

_“Aye, lass._ ”

* * *

Nothing felt better for Brynjolf than being in his element. Wearing his guild armour, sneaking in the shadows, his mind focussed entirely on the goods he was going to retrieve. Or, in this case, the equipment confiscated from Ciesa when she was arrested.

With his dagger in his hands, ready to attack should he be witnessed and ratted out to the guards, as well as a small pack over his shoulders to stash the gear into once he broke in, he felt more than ready to begin what would hopefully be the final (and successful) attempt of breaking the guild master out of the mines.

Silently, he slipped past the guards patrolling near to the mine’s entrance, and slowly snuck around the edges of the passageway. He had to be careful at one point though, as he was almost heard when he had to make his way up the wooden stairs leading up to the mines where the prisoners were held as well as the storage room which held prisoner belongings. A plank of wood made a loud creaking noise, and was threatening to splinter beneath him. He had to quickly get to the top of the stairs and return to the shadows before anyone could catch sight of him.

Eventually, he reached the place where he knew that Ciesa’s belongings would be, and his eyes widened in shock at the sight before him.

“It’s a nice-looking sword, good to hold, good to swing. If only we were allowed to have the items belonging to prisoners locked up for life, they’ve got no need for this stuff any longer…”

Brynjolf recognised that sword. He had first seen it a long time ago… In the hands of Gallus. And much more recently… In Ciesa’s hands. Those mercenaries were swinging around the Nightingale Blade as though it were a toy.

“Just put it down, idiot. Thing looks enchanted, and I don’t think we want to deal with any wounds from an enchanted weapon right now.”

He watched in silence as he saw the sword be returned to a chest, and he gritted his teeth when he managed to catch a glance at what was inside it. He could see some parts of the guild master’s armour, and even the Nightingale bow which he remembered that Karliah had given to Ciesa too. His one relief though, was that all of her stuff was in one place.

The two who had been messing about with the prisoner belongings began to walk away, and Brynjolf used that moment to get over to the chest and grab everything he could and get it into the pack he was carrying. In total, he had both weapons, her armour, a variety of potions, gold, and what appeared to be scales of some sort… no doubt from a dragon.

As quickly as he arrived, he made his way back towards the mine entrance to get ready to advance on the ruins he had located earlier. He had a few additional supplies set up and ready to go just inside the ruins too, including disguises for when he had Ciesa and could make a break for the city gates. He even had a few items there to bribe this Madanach she had mentioned if needed to secure her escape.

He hadn’t felt this much of a thrill since the first successful job that he did after Nocturnal was appeased with the return of the Skeleton Key. And he had no doubt it was going to feel even better once the guild’s leader was back by his side.

* * *

“Excuse me, I have a question… You don’t happen to know of a man who works in the city, called… Brynjolf, I believe?”

In Riften, at the same time as Brynjolf was preparing for the break-out attempt in Markarth, somebody was going around asking the residents who were still out and about, as well as those in the Bee and Barb, about the thief. They weren’t having the best of luck in getting any answers about the man.

However… The Thieves Guild very quickly caught wind of the questions being asked.

“Hey, Delvin, Vex, I’ve got something important to tell you both.” Sapphire had gone down to the Ragged Flagon as quickly as she could when she had overheard the questions, and grabbed the attention of the first people that she saw. “I have a feeling that we’re going to end up with a soldier down here at some point soon, asking questions about Brynjolf. I was just having a drink in the Bee and Barb when I noticed it.”

The pair who had been sat at a table, in addition to Lucia, who was eating some bread with them, looked at the younger thief, before Delvin sighed. “Damn, I hope old Bryn hasn’t gotten himself into trouble with the Imperials whilst trying to sort out the ‘Boss situation’…”

Sapphire shook her head as she took the remaining seat at the table. “I don’t think he’s in any sort of trouble… Soldiers and guards generally _know_ who they are going to arrest. I think this is more along the lines of him trying to find out about him. I wouldn’t know why though.”

“Mama was a soldier… Maybe the soldier is Mama’s friend Hadvar who she told me about, and he wants to be friends with Mister Brynjolf too,” Lucia whispered before taking another bite of her bread. “… When do you think Mama and Mister Brynjolf will come back?”

The three thieves exchanged worried looks at Lucia’s question, before Delvin responded. “We’re not sure. If they don’t get back over the next few days though, I’m sure that we can write them a letter to find out where they are.”

“Okay, Mister Delvin. I hope they come back soon though, the beds in the, um, cistern are very uncomfortable. I miss my own bed…”

Vex then stood up, and patted Lucia on the shoulder. “Speaking of going to bed, it’s getting late now. I don’t think your mother would want you staying awake too long even if she isn’t here. I’ll even give you some of Delvin’s blankets, to make the bed you’re using more comfortable.”

“You wound me, Vex. I may have to join you in your bed if you take any of my sheets.”

“Fuck off, Delvin.”

Lucia gasped at the curse which Vex used, but in the end laughed at the faces which Delvin was pulling. As she was taken towards the cistern, she could be clearly heard asking if Vex could teach her some of the words if she promised not to use them in front of her mama, but was quickly shut down by the blonde thief.

Almost as if waiting for the way into the cistern to be closed off, the main doors into the Flagon from the Ratways opened, and Sapphire’s eyes widened “ _That’s the soldier asking questions about Brynjolf! I told you he’d be down here eventually!”_

Delvin quickly told her to stay calm, and seeming as Dirge had already retired for the night, he got up and went over to the stairs leading up to the Flagon to speak to the newcomer.

“Isn’t often anyone like you comes down to the Flagon. If I recall correctly, only one other person has been down here in Imperial armour…” He stated, staring straight into the soldier’s eyes. “I hear you’ve been asking about a… friend of ours in Riften tonight.”

“Yes. I am wanting to know the whereabouts of a man called Brynjolf. He has mentioned being from Riften, and many people have pointed me towards… this place.”

“Well, you’ve come at a bad time. He’s not here. Hasn’t been for a few weeks now.”

The soldier sighed. “I am… aware. He approached me some time back, looking for someone that he called a ‘mutual friend of ours’.” He then sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m wanting to find out if he has found her yet.”

Delvin chuckled quietly. Without even knowing it, little Lucia had been right on the money about who the soldier was. Brynjolf had mentioned going to see a soldier who the boss was close to as he followed her route to Markarth. He also remembered Ciesa talking about her time in the Imperial Legion too, in particular about a soldier who had saved her life on multiple occasions who she considered a friend.

“I know who you’re talking about. The dragonborn, yeah? She’s the boss around here. And Brynjolf mentioned visiting Riverwood to talk to you about her. He’s very dedicated to the boss – he’s the reason she joined our organisation in the first place, and he’s probably not going to come back until she does. As you can see… neither of them are here right now.”

“Your… ‘organisation’? Are you saying that Ciesa, Brynjolf, and everyone here is part of some sort of… organisation?” Hadvar seemed perplexed at what Delvin was saying, confused as to why there was an organisation existing within such a place.

Delvin heard Sapphire let out a loud laugh in the background, and he too smirked. “Did nobody up there tell you about what this place is? Did nobody try to stop you from coming down here?” He chuckled as he turned around, and returned to the table where he was previously sat and took a large sip from his tankard. “Only a fool goes through the Ratways to the Ragged Flagon not knowing that it's home to the Thieves Guild, led by none other than the dragonborn herself. You’re on our turf now, soldier.”


	6. Release

“How the hell are you still standing? You’ve been stabbed, injured, beaten – not many people survive all that and can still stand!”

Ciesa could only smirk in spite of the pain she was in as she locked eyes with Borkul. “You have no idea who I actually am, do you? I’ve killed dragons, fought in wars, survived murder attempts, and I’m still on my feet. You think a beating from a group of men in a mine acting as a prison would be enough to bring me down?” she muttered as two of the other prisoners grabbed hold of her arms. She was half-expecting to be attacked for what would be the third, possibly even fourth time that day, but knew that she would have to hold on. She knew that Brynjolf would be trying to get her out at that very moment.

Before she found herself being hurt any further, a voice cut in from towards the back of the mine. “What is going on here? It’s far too noisy, those guards will come snooping if you make any- Oh. Of _course_ it’s something to do with _her._ ” Everyone turned to look towards the person who spoke, though during this moment, one of the prisoners who was holding onto Ciesa kicked at her leg, making her fall to her knees as she hissed in pain.

“She’s managed to smuggle all sorts into the mine, Madanach. She’s been the source of all the extra skooma, and we found this dagger on her too,” one of the prisoners to the side shouted, showing off the dagger which had been snatched from her earlier. That was the entire reason behind her current beating from the other prisoners.

The dragonborn scowled when Madanach approached her, and took hold of her chin to make her look up at him. “You’re turning into far too much trouble than you’re worth, woman. Borkul, grab hold of her and follow me. We’re going to see if we can… handle this situation amicably.”

In reality, Ciesa knew that his words meant ‘ _We’re going to try one last time – join the Forsworn, or you’re going to suffer for however long you have left to live.’_

The only thing that she found comforting was that in spite of the implications of everything that had been said to her, she knew that she was actually going to be closer to where Brynjolf was going to try and break her out of the mine from.

A slight hiss of pain escaped her lips as she was pulled back up to her feet by Borkul, and made to follow Madanach deeper into the mine.

What she was not expecting was to find a shiv to be pointed at her throat once the other prisoners could no longer see them and were out of earshot.

“Now… You’ve been causing a lot of trouble in this mine, woman. You’ve disturbed the… natural flow of things here, and to make matters worse, you are refusing to cooperate with us.” The uneven blade lightly pressed into her skin, and she felt a small bead of blood slip down her throat simply because she took in too deep a breath. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t slit your pretty little throat right here, right now, and tell the guards you killed yourself in the morning?”

Her eyes widened.

“I can give you damn good reason not to hurt the lass.” Her eyes darted to the right and she began to feel like crying when she saw Brynjolf stood on the opposite side of the barred gate. “You see, I think she may have already told you this on multiple occasions, but she is the dragonborn. And also, the leader of the Thieves Guild. We have some very… intricate networks across the entirety of Skyrim. If she dies, you’ll suddenly find it extremely difficult for any of your Forsworn companions to acquire any supplies to continue your little fight down here in the Reach,” he stated, leaning against a wall as he folded his arms over. “Oh, and did I also mention that she is a Legate in the Imperial Legion? Yeah, you’re bringing war upon yourselves if the lass dies.”

Ciesa was surprised at when Brynjolf mentioned her status amongst the Imperial Legion, it was something which she kept quiet from the guild (aside from mentioning being a member, but she never mentioned her role).

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“My second-in-command in the Thieves Guild. Or, as you all may know him, my doting ‘husband’ who came all the way out to Markarth from Riften after hearing of my imprisonment, and has been visiting me every day,” Ciesa muttered, watching as the shiv was slowly moved away from her throat.

“Aye. And I’ve seen a lot of what you’ve done to the lass. The beatings, the shouting, the injuries… Why, I’m of the right mind to tell the guards of all this. Maybe I’ll mention the copious amounts of skooma and shivs which are in the mines too… Unless you release the lass right now.” He shot a glare towards Borkul during his last statement. “You release her, and give her to me, and I’ll just so happen to forget everything that I can report to the guards. You’ll never see or hear her around these parts again.”

“But that isn’t quite so fair now, is it? What do we get if we were to let her go free?”

Brynjolf didn’t know how to answer that, but Ciesa scoffed and gave an answer. “I can bring this entire mine down around us. You let me go, and nobody dies.”

There was a tense silence for a few moments before there was a quiet mumble from Madanach as he went over to the gate and opened it. “Fine. Take her, and get lost – she’s caused more trouble than she’s worth here anyway.”

Ciesa was suddenly pushed in Brynjolf’s direction, almost making both thieves fall to the ground.

“I’ve got you, lass… You okay?” he whispered as he pulled her into an embrace. He caught the glaring eyes of Madanach as he did so, and frowned. “Actually… let’s have this conversation once we’re out of here. Can tell where we’re not welcome, after all…”

All that she did was nod as they quickly made their distance from the mines, remaining silent until they were far enough away to not be overheard. “That was almost too easy… I doubt we’re getting out of Markarth without a fight. Or at least a confrontation of sorts…” she muttered, looking back in the direction that they had come from. “A round of drinks in the Flagon says that there will be guards waiting for us when we’re out of here. That is if we can get to Riften without being arrested…”

“Aye, I agree about it being too easy to persuade that man. And two rounds say that they’ll claim I was your accomplice in the ‘murders’ that you committed so they can arrest us both.”

Ciesa chuckled quietly, before sighing. “I’ve missed this… It’s only been a few weeks, but being able to have this sort of friendly banter, rather than worry about whether my words will result in getting attacked by the people around me… I really have missed it.”

Brynjolf felt an overwhelming urge to just comfort the dragonborn, as her voice was wavering and words quiet. He hadn’t seen her in this sort of state before, and it bothered him that her brief period of incarceration for a crime she never committed could impact her in such a way. Sure, he had seen her brimming with confidence a few minutes earlier when she threatened to bring the entire mine down around them, though he quickly figured that she did that so that the other prisoners didn’t demean her as much as they already had done. She had probably been forcing on a brave face for all of this time, even when she wasn’t feeling up to it.

Taking all of that into account, he decided that he would do exactly as he wanted to. He stopped walking, turned to face her, then pulled her into an embrace. She was caught by surprise by it, though she welcomed his actions by resting her head against his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him.

Then it was his turn to be surprised.

She started crying as she dug her fingers into the leather of his Guild armour, the sobs which wracked her body being a noise he absolutely hated, and her trembling making him tighten his hold to reassure her that she was safe with him.

Eventually, she parted from him, and wiped away some of the tears from her face as she forced on a smile. “Some leader I am, hah… Leaving my people to fend for themselves for a few weeks whilst I festered away in a horrible mine-slash-prison for a crime I didn’t actually commit rather than for the crimes that I _did_ , crying once I realise that I’ve been freed…”

“Still a million times better than Mercer, love. You more than deserve the role, and the others think so too. This was one little incident in your mostly stellar record as our leader, and if anything, I think that nobody will care. Actually, I bet that the guild will love having you back, seeming as they’ve had Delvin and Vex as stand-in leaders during our absence.”

“Thanks, Bryn…” she whispered, taking a step back from him. “Though I’m not locked up any longer, so there’s no need to keep up the whole ‘love’ thing…”

“Force of habit at this point, I’m afraid.” He then turned back around, and gestured for her to follow him as they were nearing where he had stashed away her reclaimed belongings. He had actually hoped that she wouldn’t have picked up on that slip of the tongue (he had only realised himself after he had called her ‘love’), but it seemed that even being imprisoned hadn’t dulled her sharpness. Then again, she was likely having to listen out for any threats to her safety in the mines, so it was no surprise at all that she had picked it up.

A few minutes later, they reached the place where the pack with Ciesa’s items, and she sighed quietly as she placed her hand on top her stuff. “I’ve never been so… relieved to have some of my own clothes to get into. I hate rags, I absolutely hate them.” She then picked it up, and looked around. “Do you mind if I check something before I get out of this wretched potato sack and into my armour?”

Brynjolf nodded, but raised an eyebrow at her statement.

“Cover your ears.”

Now he was completely confused, but did as she had asked. Once he had done so, he realised what she was doing. With the way that her mouth moved, he could tell that she had said three words, presumably a shout. But then he saw her eyes widen as her pupils darted around.

He removed his hands from his ears as she dug around in the items then, and grabbed hold of the cloaks which he had left there for them both to use as they escaped Markarth. “There’s people everywhere. We can’t afford to stay here so that I can get changed, we need to run. I can just about see in my line of vision where the guards are, but only for about another twenty seconds.”

“Then what are we standing around here for? Let’s go, lass.”


	7. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have said that I was wanting to increase the length of chapters, but at least for this fic, I'm much preferring the briefer chapters... So I take that back! Though there may be a few longer chapters every once in a while.

“Now, remind me again lass… Why do we not go on high-risk missions together more often?” Brynjolf was stood beside an incapacitated guard, who he had just knocked down with a blow to the back of the head with a blunt part of his dagger, with a grin on his face.

From where she was hastily pulling on her boots, Ciesa raised an eyebrow at the man and shook her head with a sigh. “Let me think… Ah, yes. ‘ _Sorry lass, I’ve got important things to do. We’ll talk another time.’_ I believe those are the words that you would often give to me?” She then grabbed hold of the rest of her guild master uniform, she twirled her finger around. “Don’t look, or you’ll find yourself on the bad end of a shout.”

At present, the two thieves had found themselves hiding out in the passageway beside the Shrine of Talos in Markarth as Ciesa quickly got herself out of the prison rags and changed into her usual clothes. He had suggested that she go into the shrine, but she had been vehemently against it, claiming that it was somewhere that she wouldn’t set foot in again as it had been there she was confronted by the corrupt guards, in addition to it amounting to desecration (in spite of her Imperial allegiance).

“Oh… I almost forgot that I had that…” she soon whispered, which caught his attention. He slightly peered back, though quickly diverted his eyes away when he was met with a glare. “I’ll show you what it is when I’m changed, look again and you’ll regret it.”

After another two minutes, he felt a slight tap on his shoulder as she pulled her hood over her head. “An amethyst. Something I found when forced to work in those mines, and hid so it wouldn’t be taken off me…” She held up the gem so that they both could see it, and she sighed. “I promised myself that if I ever got out, I would find a way to make some jewellery with it to give to Lucia as an apology…”

“I’m certain that the little lass would be more than happy with you returning. Maybe spend a day or two at one of your many homes with her, or go for a picnic at Lake Honrich with some of her favourite food, like apples-“ Brynjolf stopped speaking when he saw Ciesa raise an eyebrow at him in spite of her face being partially concealed, which was followed by a quiet laugh. It was the first time he had seen any sort of cheerful emotion from her since he arrived in Markarth… Though he wasn’t quite sure _why_ she was laughing. “What is it, lass?”

“You’re sounding like a parent, Bryn. And of the two of us, I am the one who is!” She then took a step closer to him, and reached over his shoulder. He was confused at her actions until he felt her pull his hood over his head. “No wonder Lucia talks about you excitedly every time that I returned to Honeyside… ‘ _Mama, Mister Brynjolf gave me an apple today!’_ or ‘ _You’ll never guess what, Mama! Mister Brynjolf helped me with the flowers in the garden!’_ ”

“She, uh… She tells you about all that?”

“Yes. And…” Ciesa trailed off as she moved her hand to his side. Brynjolf noticed that she was looking towards his dagger, and it didn’t take long for him to figure out why. Guards surrounded them from both ways out of the passageway, presumably after finding out about her escaping from the mines and the slight trail of unconscious guards across the city. She flashed him a serious glance, and he nodded when he figured out the message which she was trying to convey.

In no more than a few seconds, he had grabbed hold of the Nightingale Blade from her side, and they found themselves moving quickly to avoid the incoming attacks from the guards. By taking hold of the other’s weapon, it gave them a few vital seconds to brace for the attacks as the guards had been watching for if they grabbed their own.

The weight of the sword was somewhat unfamiliar in his hand, seeming as he was much more used to his dagger, though he still felt confident enough in using it. And… it felt right using it too, most likely due to his own status as a Nightingale, and not due to the fact that it was very easy to knock the guards out with a single blow to the backs of their helmets once he slipped past them.

However, it seemed to be that the guards were never-ending. The situation quickly ended up with the two thieves back-to-back, guards closing in on them. It almost seemed hopeless – as though they were going to get apprehended, with _both_ of them ending up in the mines.

Until Ciesa quickly pushed something into his hands. He recognised it as one of the potions amongst her belongings that he recovered for her. She turned her head back to him and nodded before she crouched down and seemingly disappeared.

_Clever lass._

He had never accepted one of the Agents of Nocturnal (or rather, he hadn’t gone _anywhere_ near the Twilight Sepulcher and had no intention to any time soon), though he had been told by Karliah about the different ones available and that Ciesa had chosen the one which allowed her to go invisible for a time. She must have been using that power, and knowing that he _didn’t_ have it, had given him one of the potions which he had recovered for her – an invisibility potion.

Before the guards could jump at him when they realised that she had disappeared, he quickly consumed the potion, and retched slightly at the taste. Luckily though, it did exactly as intended, and he disappeared from sight. Much to his relief, he felt Ciesa’s just-as-invisible hand grab hold of him by the arm, and she began to pull him away as the guards attempted to figure out where they had gone.

Even though he couldn’t see her, he could feel the tension coming from her by the way she was digging her fingers into him as though her life depended on it. He put it down to this situation being very similar to when the guards actually did apprehend her, so he couldn’t blame her in the slightest for being like this as the guards attempted to pursue them.

The invisibility potion wore out just as they reached the Markarth gates, and so, Ciesa stood up straight so that she reappeared too. As they quickly slipped out of the city, she started to whisper. “You… You said that Ri’saad offered to wait outside Markarth to help us out, right…?”

“Aye. How come, lass?”

“Do you think… that he has any healing potions?”

It was then that he noticed that her free hand, as well as still holding onto his dagger, was pressing into her stomach. Her earlier shiv-wound had clearly been made worse by the brief fight against the guards.

Brynjolf frowned.

“They better had, or else I’m carrying you all the way back to Riften.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short but (hopefully!) fluffy chapter, with a love confession~

“No no, payment is not necessary. We would lose a lot of business if your guild were to fall into trouble once more. Keep your gold.”

“Ri’saad, I insist. You even gave Brynjolf part of your Skooma supply so that I was in less danger trapped in those mines. When we get to Whiterun, I will go to my property there, and get some gold to-!” A slight shriek escaped Ciesa’s lips when an arm wrapped around her and pulled her away from Ri’saad, who was just staring in amusement at the two thieves. “Brynjolf, let go of me, I’m trying to-!”

“Now now, love. Why don’t you listen to him? His reasoning is sound.” Her eyes widened as he whispered down her ear, and pulled her further away from where the Khajiit caravan had set up for the night, just bordering between The Reach and Whiterun. He stopped when they reached a tree, and spoke once more, his voice now a whisper. “I’m sure that this can be dealt with after we get back to Riften, and after we have the guild back up and running at full capacity.”

Ciesa looked up at her second-in-command and frowned as she chose to lean against the tree that they were stood beside. She knew that he was just trying to do what was in their best interests, though morally, she couldn’t leave things with Ri’saad until then. Her situation had resulted in him and his caravan sacrificing a good part of their profits which they could have been making by them supporting them in Markarth. It was the least which she could do in return – she may have been a criminal (albeit not for the crimes she was accused of in Markarth), but she wasn’t selfish.

Clearly, the topic would continue to be a debate until the time came to part ways with the Khajiits, so Brynjolf decided to change the subject to at the very least bring a distraction to the guild master. “How is your wound? Any better after a healing potion was put on it?”

She wasn’t expecting him to ask that, and in turn, she let out a small sigh. It had continued to hurt – as it would do, being stabbed in a place where a previous such wound had been inflicted – but she hadn’t been wanting to burden Brynjolf with knowing that. She had already worried him enough just being imprisoned.

Before she could step away, she found herself trapped against the tree, with Brynjolf’s hands at either side of her. The concern in his features was more than obvious, which straight away told her that she wouldn’t be able to dodge his question.

Biting her lip, she gave in and reached up for the buckles which stretched across her armour and began to unfasten them. Brynjolf raised his eyebrow, to which she responded with a quiet grumble of _“I’ll show you,_ ” as she began to unfasten the leather jacket. Underneath was just a cotton shirt, which had a small but dried blood stain visible across the material. She lifted it slightly, just enough to show the injury.

His hand moved from her side, before coming to rest just to the side of the tender flesh, which was enough to make her quietly wince. “I think we are going to have to ask for another healing potion for that, love. Probably just a minor one though, as it _is_ looking much better…”

Surprisingly, a chuckle came from the guild master at his remark. “I doubt it can ever look ‘good’, Bryn… Mercer left behind an ugly scar, and those Forsworn have likely added another one on top,” she whispered, before giving him a small smile. “Also, I am beginning to think that you are doing this on purpose now.”

“Doing _what_ , love?”

“ _That._ Calling me ‘love’, even though I am no longer stuck in that mine, and there is no need to continue pretending that we are married. What happened to ‘lass’?”

Brynjolf smiled, and moved his hands away from the tree and her injury. Before Ciesa could move herself away from it though, she felt his hands move to her hips, and his lips against hers.

It was only then that it sank in for her as to _why_ he had continued calling her that.

_Because it wasn’t an act at all._

“B-Brynjolf…?”

“Shh.”

Ciesa’s eyes were wide as she looked at her fellow thief. “D-Don’t shush me when you so something like-!” He cut her off with his lips against hers once more, though she wasn’t against the kiss in the slightest. If anything, she had to admit that one of the reasons she joined the Thieves Guild was because of Brynjolf, his looks, and his way with words. He was handsome, and played it to his advantage. And she… honestly did enjoy the whole marriage façade when stuck in Cidhna Mine, it came completely natural to her. Her only solace as she monotonously harvested the silver ores was knowing he would be back to see her again soon, the physical contact with him through the gates being the only non-violent touches she experienced in her time there. During her restless sleep on the rugged stone, she would even dream of the ‘relationship' they were pretending to be in... of waking up in Honeyside, him beside her in her – no, _their_ – bed...

When they parted, he gave her a quick apology for being so abrupt, before pointing at the path in the distance. “Markarth Guards. I caught sight of them when you were bickering about payment with Ri’saad, so I had to get you away from the path whilst they questioned the caravan about having seen us. They almost heard us as one of them kept trying to look this direction, so…”

“You kissed me to keep me quiet?” Hurt was clear in her voice, and he quickly shook his head.

“That was the second kiss. First one was to answer your question about me calling you ‘love’ instead of ‘lass’,” he explained as he finally stepped away from her so that she no longer had her back against the tree. “Anyway… The coast is clear now, so how about we re-join our travelling companions and get you that potion, then settle down for the night? I imagine you’re excited to sleep anywhere other than the floor of a mine.”

She nodded, before taking hold of his hand gently. He knew that she was silently asking something of him, though he also picked up on her uncertainty based on the way that her hand was sweating, and the way that she was biting her bottom lip. She wanted company. Closeness. A reminder that she was free once more.

With a slight squeeze of her hand, some of her tension seemed to just melt away as they began to walk back towards the Khajiit tents. Atahbah had remained outside waiting for them, and pointed them towards the one closest to the path which eventually led to Rorikstead.

“For if guards come back before the morning, the escape will be easiest from that one,” she had smiled at them before making her way over to the biggest of the tents. “Just for you two. No Khajiit, only thieves. Extra supplies too, healing potions and the like.”

Once inside the tent, Ciesa sighed quietly as she sat down on one of the two bedrolls which had been left for them, and shrugged off her jacket. It had been too long since she last had been camping out in the wilderness of Skyrim – this was possibly one of the first times since she defeated Alduin and settled into her role as leader of the Thieves Guild – and even considering the circumstances of the situation, she felt almost at peace.

She did, however, acknowledge that Brynjolf’s presence did help with the easing of her nerves.

“Bryn, do you have-“

“The potion? Aye, I do.”

She smiled at him as he sat beside her, and uncorked the potion to be applied to her injury. A wince formed on her face as the cold substance came in contact with her skin. Fortunately, the chill was soon replaced with a soothing sensation, and she exhaled quietly as she rested her head on his shoulder.

Eventually, she moved her arms to around his torso, and closed her eyes. “Brynjolf… Thank you for being here for me. I couldn’t ask for a better second…”


End file.
